A Home Just In Case

NSFW 18+ | Backup for @properplace | 30 F | Married | Mother | Monogamous | Submissive | Consensual Kink Based In Real Life

[herproperplace]

Back up blog for @properplace

For a brief time, @properplace was flagged and seemed to be going down a one-way path to termination. Thankfully, it was unflagged! I appreciate everyone who followed me here. Please keep this blog in your follow list if you enjoy my content, just in case of another issue in the future.

Miri / Miriam - monogamous, married, a mother; assume I am not interested

Original content: #herproperplace (original blog content #properplace)

Original text: #properwords (original blog content #pupsays)

I do not do commissions.

[herproperplace]

Celebration is in order!

My original blog, @properplace, was unflagged!

Thanks very much to everyone who followed me here. Please keep this blog in your follow list if you enjoy my content just in case there are future issues with Tumblr.

I appreciate you!

[herproperplace]

Worthy

(True Story) - He stared at me in disbelief as I confessed. I told him what I had done, but my voice lacked the sincere contrition that I usually possessed. 

“I started edging to help my sex drive come back and I ruined almost immediately. Then I started again, trying to keep the edge on, but pushed through to an orgasm. Then I did it three more times until I was satisfied.” 

I did not feel good about what I was saying. There was no pride in it. But I felt disconnected from my body and our present conversation, as if I were watching some other woman say this to her Husband. Poor cunt. He is not going to be pleased with her. She’s got it coming. 

“Three more times?” He repeated my words, incredulous. “So how many was that total? Four?” 

“Plus a ruin.” 

“So let’s say four and a half.” 

“Yes.” 

“What were you thinking?”

“I still don’t know. I wanted it, so I did it. I’m still confused, myself. It almost felt like the consequences were distant and not guaranteed, and I’d either get out of them or get through them, but that wasn’t as important as the good feelings right then. I’m not sure.” That sensation of watching someone else speak the words remained. 

“I’ll grant you that things have been put on the side while we’ve all been sick and preparing to host everyone for the party, but this is serious. You know that, right?” 

I nodded. 

“Thank you for telling me. Well firstly, you are no longer allowed to wear that,” he gestured to my knee-length summer dress. “Take it off. You will be naked for the next 24 hours, except for when others are around or you need to leave the house.” 

I stripped my dress off. He surveyed me. 

“Actually, you are too comfortable naked. No, you will have a uniform. And I’m extending the timeframe. Essentially, you are in detention until you reform. Let’s start with a week and see how we do.” 

He walked away and returned with one of my most uncomfortable and busty bras. His purchase for me, of course. He tossed it to me and I put it on. Next followed the short skirt - no pockets, naturally - and nothing allowed underneath. 

“Much better. You need a reminder that I decide these things for you and that your purpose is to bring me pleasure. This outfit is hot, I like it.” He groped my tits that spilled out from the too-tight cups, hard. 

I adjusted the strap of my bra and mused over my stubborn lack of presence in the moment. I did as he said, but I didn’t feel involved. Would this end with me reformed or ornery? I felt it was a toss up at this point, maybe leaning toward the latter. I was aggravated by the inconvenience and silliness of the outfit. I missed my pretty, soft dress with pockets. Would this method work? If he used too heavy of a hand here in the wrong place, it could cause a rebellion of my spirit. We could end up in conflict instead of working together. Imagine fighting him for power... I shuddered. That would not work out for me. I tried to let the worries go and leave it in his hands to sort out. A week is a long time. He had always been able to handle me before, even when my behavior was much worse in the early stages of my training. 

“Understand me when I say this is just where we start. After dinner, you’ll also kneel on rice for me for four and a half minutes and reflect on what you did and why it was wrong. We will talk it out and see if that can set you straight.” 

Ouch. I nodded, and we continued on with the cadence of the evening’s chores and routine. My mind continued to turn, but with each loop I did my best to settle it and trust his process and experience.

--------------------------------------------------------

The sky was dark and the late summer crickets chirped so insistently, the closed windows did little to muffle them. I sprinkled rice out on the floor in the dimly lit kitchen and hesitated. “I really don’t want to do this,” I mumbled. 

“Then you should have made better choices. Get down.” His voice was stern. 

I knelt onto the rice. He lifted me up onto my knees so my whole weight pressed down on the hard grains. I winced. 

“Alright, now talk to me. What were you thinking?” 

I began to recount the events to him again, explaining my desire and how I followed it to try to regain my libido. How I thought it wouldn’t matter that much and that I knew this would help me.  I described how mind felt messy, cluttered and distant. I felt like I had been acting out the motions of denial, but not believing my own performance. It was a relief to have those endorphins - to want something and to do it and to get that reward. Why was I waiting? Why was I stopping myself from having that pleasure? It made my headache better. It made me feel satisfied. But in the end, I felt even more disconnected from myself. I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror for that way of thinking and doing, and I knew I needed his help after I had done it. So I had texted him and asked him to help me realign because something was very wrong. 

I spilled out honesty at his feet in a messy pile, ugly and scrambled.  He listened to me until I stopped speaking. Then he responded. 

“You’re not responsible for maintaining your libido. Does orgasm help you with that? No, it does not. It never has. Edging does. I am responsible for you. You needed to talk with me about what you were trying to do and let me guide you. You don’t act on your own like that. The fact that you did that mental calculus to try to gauge whether obeying me was worth or not it is very concerning.” 

“Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“Yes, you should be. In fact, I’m surprised that a sorry has come along this late. Just because we have had to prioritize other matters, like your health and hosting a large event, does not mean that our hierarchy here is irrelevant. I am sorry that I have not acted in a way that made you feel that it was there to support you. That’s why this time we’re spending talking together is important. Shift your weight to the left.”

“Huh?” 

“Shift. Your. Weight.” He pushed down on my left shoulder to encourage the motion. The weight of my body crushed down onto the grains under my left knee, grinding them against my kneecap and dimpling my knee painfully. 

I whined in pain and bowed my head, gritting my teeth. I could see him smirk out of the corner of my eye. He adjusted his hardening cock in his pants. But he released me and let my balance center again. 

“Mm. That’s better. I know you’ve been feeling muddled and confused. But your purpose is very simple. You just need a reminder.” He pulled his cock free and placed the hard tip against my lips. “Don’t fret, I know your throat hurts. You don’t have to take me deep.” 

I took him into my mouth. The action felt like a distant memory, yet still familiar. My body fell into the motions without the need for any thoughts. He groaned in pleasure as my lips and tongue caressed him. The deep, primal sound flooded my consciousness with warmth and contentment. I let my eyes close and the pain of the rice grains biting into my skin faded away. He beckoned for me to use my hands, so I cupped his balls with one and stroked his shaft with the other until he leaned his head back. 

“Very, very good. Fuck. This is exactly what you’re for.” He praised me and I reciprocated with an enthusiastic mouth. I had somehow forgotten that this is where pleasure comes from. He is the source of it all. How could I have lost this basic knowledge? The four and a half minute timer rang off on his phone. He silenced it and leaned into me, inching himself deeper into my mouth, enjoying it. He spoke to me in a low voice, full of confidence. 

“It’s so good to see you back in your place where you belong. It doesn’t matter if you make more money than me, does it?” He smirked when I mumbled out a “no” around his cock. “No, it doesn’t. Good girl. It doesn’t matter that you have your own car. It doesn’t matter that everyone sees you as an independent and capable woman. None of that matters. Because we both know the truth, don’t we? Everything you are and everything you have is mine. Every little bit of you is mine, from your orgasms to every pretty little eyelash and hair on your head. I own you. Shift your weight."

I whimpered in pain with a full mouth as my weight crashed down onto my other knee before I was allowed to return to center. My vision seemed to blur and I tried to meet his intent gaze but struggled to focus. His words washed over me, cleansing me of the mess and confusion. I began to feel cleaner, simpler, softer. The rice under my knees issued a constant dull ache and my own drool dripped from my mouth, down my wrist and forearm, to puddle onto the floor. 

He pulled back from my mouth and rubbed his drool-covered cock all over my face. Then he grabbed me by my hair to press my nose into his balls. I looked up at him again from so far below. He smiled at me. It was not a gentle smile. 

“Inhale. And then take them into your mouth.”

I obeyed. He jerked off over my face and moaned. 

“Fuck, yes. You’re such a whore, look at you down at my feet and below my cock.” 

I licked and sucked his balls until the drool dripped down my chin. Would he cum on my face? Or on my tits? My cunt throbbed at the idea. Finally he pulled away and put a hand on my shoulder to press me down onto the rice again, making me wince and cry out.

“I worked very hard to shape you into the dumb little cunt you are, and I’m not about to let that go to waste, do you understand me? Your orgasms are mine and you will only have one when I can benefit from feeling it, watching it, hearing it or being entertained by it. What you did was incredibly selfish.” He slapped me across the cheek and thrust himself into my mouth and hand again, enjoying the slick mess. 

My eyes watered and I nodded my understanding. I did not dare let the pain affect the gentleness of my lips and tongue.

“Good. Are you wet?” He paused.

“I don’t know.” 

“Check.” 

I put a hand between my legs and felt little pool of slick there, too. I nodded. 

“I thought so. This is your proper place. You’re done with the rice now.” 

“Thank you.” 

He released me and crouched down next to me as I struggled to get up. He brushed the grains from my knees gently while I leaned back onto my heels. I let him tend to me, thanking him for his tenderness. My brain buzzed with endorphins. I felt so calm now that I remembered there was gratification in serving him. I didn’t have to go without satisfaction; I just needed him. I was quietly reflecting when he got up next to me. 

He thrust into my mouth again and I accommodated him without complaint. He fucked my mouth and hand, making the most wonderful sounds. My mind floated in clouds of contentment as I listened. I could feel him hardening in my mouth. My excitement grew as I imagined his release shooting down my throat. Then he stopped and told me to stand. He bent me over the countertop, lifted my tiny skirt up over my ass, and pushed himself inside me in a single motion. I was overwhelmed by the sensation of delicious fullness and a moan fell past my lips without restraint. 

He swore over and over as he picked up his pace, gripping my hips firmly and rutting into me. I moaned helplessly and gripped the countertop to steady myself against his thrusts. His cock stretched my inner walls over and over again as he pulled my hips back onto his. It had been a while since I had been filled, but it all felt right again. I let go of everything and sank into the act of being fucked in the pursuit of his orgasm and pleasure. This was my purpose, to be a warm wet place for him to— 

He pulled out suddenly. I heard him grunt and there was a splatter on the floor. I stood there for a moment, bent over the counter, confused. I looked over my shoulder to see him washing his hands at the sink, his back to me. 

“Clean it up.” He said flatly, then turned away to the sink again to dry his hands. 

I felt frozen in place, but needed to respond to the command. I looked down slowly and saw his cum spattered on the kitchen tile floor. I felt small, remote.

“H—how?” I asked, timidly, but I knew the answer. I clasped my hands together in the hollow of my neck, folding in on myself, wishing I was invisible. 

“How do you think?” He didn’t look up at me while he dried his hands on the towel. 

I felt my eyes sting with the start of tears. I held them back for a moment. I took too long to respond. He looked up at me, expectantly. 

“…dirty…” My lip quivered as I spoke. I could feel tears welling up now. My eyes begged him silently: Please. Please don’t make me do this. Please no. 

He stared into my eyes, unflinching. “It is dirty. You earned it. Will you do as I say?”

I nodded with a choked sob. Tears rolled down my cheeks now. “Yes.”I looked down again at his seed spilled out on the floor, I started to cry. He watched me prepare myself to obey for a brief moment before he responded. 

“I knew you would. Here.” He handed me the towel. 

Relief and surprise at his mercy spread over me all at once and I took the towel from him. I knelt to the floor, but tears began anew. 

“You haven’t pulled out of me in years,” I sobbed. “I’m s-so s-sorry. I’m sorry you had to do that. I’m sorry I wasn’t worthy of it.” I sat next to the scattered puddle and cried. 

He knelt down next to me and caressed my head in his hands, placing a gentle kiss on my hair. “Now that apology I believe. I forgive you.” He sat down on the floor beside me and nudged me to continue with my task. 

I wiped the floor with the towel, my face a terrible mess from crying with a cold.

“Come here,” he said softly, and pulled me into his lap. He wrapped his strong arms around my whole body that was curled up into a tight ball. I held onto his forearm and buried my face into him while I cried out the rest of my tears and my emotions calmed. 

“Do you understand now?” He asked me gently. “You need to respect that I give and take in this house. You have to earn what I give. I had this sense that you thought it was a given. It seems like I cut right to the core on that one, huh.” 

I smiled a little. “It’s like you know me or something." 

“I didn’t want to do it, either. It doesn’t feel as good for me to pull out - you feel so much better! But I did that because I care, and I thought it would teach you what you needed to learn. When you are in that state of mind again and you hear that voice bothering you, asking you why - why follow his rules. Remember this and remember I was merciful today.” 

My tears started again. “I know,” I sobbed, “I wish you didn’t have to do to that! I wish I hadn’t caused that! I want it to feel good for you. I want to be worthy again.” 

He held me close and hushed me, rocking with me in his arms. “You will. Everything will be alright and you’ll feel better. Just do as I tell you. It’s not your job to figure out how to train yourself, okay? You come to me if you’re feeling out of sorts and we’ll fix it.” 

“Okay.” I buried my face against his warm chest again. 

“I love you. So much. You know that, right? That’s why I do this.” 

“I love you, too. Can I have a tissue?” 

He looked at my messy face and smiled. “Yes, go clean up. And you can go get cozy if you like, even though that outfit is hot as hell.” He felt me up to make his point.

“Thanks, Bear. Thanks for teaching me.”

“Of course.”  

[herproperplace]

Hey! I can't see the "Worthy" post on mobile or desktop, even with that filter off. Do you know if it was flagged and removed, by chance? I love your writing and really want to read it, but I can't!

It’s not flagged. I’ll reblog it again. Not sure what the issue is. Do you have any tags hidden/blocked?

[herproperplace]

You poor things cannot catch a break!! Wishing the little one a speedy recovery, hope you’re managing to take care too - can’t imagine it’s easy spinning so many plates xx

Thank you! Trying!

[herproperplace]

Idk if you've answered this before, but how do you find someone who is equally as interested in obedience and service? I've been struggling to find a partner who is as interested in it as I am, and they usually end up leaving.

Hello hello. Oh I wish I had advice. I just don’t 😞

What I do know is that I have to genuinely like/love/respect/admire the person I’m serving to make it feel fulfilling. Those boxes need to be checked first for me! It’s just hard to know if investment in a relationship is going to work out until you’re able to sus out power exchange tendencies.

Sending lots of good wishes. ❤️‍🩹 Dating is often a shit show.

[herproperplace]

Hope the little guy gets better soon 😊

❤️ thank you!!

[herproperplace]

Home with a sick kiddo for the next few days. Poor little dude. Positive vibes for quick recovery are appreciated. He’s feeling really rough.

[properplace]

There’s a chill in the air in the mornings lately…

[properplace]

Who you were no longer matters. Place that woman on His altar and let her serve a greater purpose.

Humility, reverence, devotion, service, the giving of your self to your Man to be remade in His image - that’s what matters.

[properplace]

every sweet drip of mother’s milk on my skin reminds me one drop of his seed is all it takes

[herproperplace]

Little reflective dynamic ramble

Sometimes people ask if I show my dynamic outside of private moments between my Husband and myself. The answer is overwhelmingly no. However, some things get noticed.

For example, I’ve worn dresses all summer and aprons over them at home. I do 99% of the cooking and baking. I make things for my home, my family, and myself - to wear and to use.

My attire has drawn attention. My brother-in-law compliments my dresses, my sister-in-law would like to know where I shop. My nieces are dazzled by my femininity and became shy about asking me to play with them. (They warmed up after seeing that I’m still goofy.) My friends at my hobby club tell me that my dresses are beautiful. I’m asked if I made them myself (no, but how cool would that be!)

I bring food to gatherings or cook for guests. My food is excellent and I’m often asked for my recipes. My bread baking skills are the envy of many people I know.

Slowly, I’ve noticed that those closest to me stop expecting my Husband to be “whipped” and groveling at my feet simply because I’m strong and educated. I’ve noticed that people I interact with have come to accept more and more that I will defer to him and include him in all things. That I’m always respectful to him and will defend him. I don’t remember the last time someone made a comment like that to me, which is remarkable! I used to get those all the time.

I’m thankful that I’m making a lasting impression, in a gentle and respectful way.

[herproperplace]

At dinner

Him: Wouldn’t it be something if I told you that you couldn’t look me in the eye? Avert your gaze down.

Me: *looks down*

Him: And only address me as “sir.”

Me: Yes, sir.

Him: And only speak when spoken to.

Me: …

Him: Well, definitely not the last one. I’d miss out on all the hilarious things you say. That would be terrible. You make me laugh all the time.

Me: Your life would be pretty dull and quiet, huh.

Him: Exactly.

Me:…Can I look you in the eyes again, sir?

Him: Yes 😘 Cutie.

[faoladh-x]

[herproperplace]

My throat is all better! Which means I’m back to giving blow jobs 😅😁

[herproperplace]

A few minutes in, we heard the babe stir in the nursery during afternoon nap. He met my eyes, but did not dismiss me from where I knelt beneath him, serving him. He looked away from me again, leaning back on the sofa. He didn’t have to say a word to me; I knew he expected me to continue and try to finish him promptly.

I listened for more cries, but it was quiet. I had barely gotten into a rhythm before we were interrupted. I shifted my weight on my knees, cushioned by the folds of my dress and apron, and continued. I resolved to focus on my oral service - the connection between my body and his - while letting him handle the rest.

We heard another little chirp. Time was running out. He did not dismiss me, so I cradled his balls and stroked his shaft with my hands to compliment my lips and tongue. He groaned in pleasure.

I could feel him bucking into my mouth. Happiness warmed me from head to toe. He was close. Finally, he released into my mouth with hard, pulsing throbs. All his muscles relaxed at once and he sighed.

I was not dismissed. I knelt with him held tenderly in my mouth while his orgasm faded. Finally he said, “Thank you. Clean me up.”

I fetched some tissues to clean him, then myself. He smiled at me, proud of my obedience. I smiled back. We checked the baby monitor and saw that our little one had rolled over and snoozed again.

False alarm!

[herproperplace]

I think that anon about aftercare brings up a good point - in that while there's a good deal of talk around aftercare, I also find there to be a lack of actionable information or examples of aftercare being done. *NOT* that I think your response was wrong, or that your blog/writing/anything is the space for that if you don't want it to be! It's yours! I would only expect your own voice!

But - as a larger conversation, I *would* like to see more examples of aftercare being shared. Be it hot or not.

Hello! I’ve seen quite a few “aftercare idea lists” floating around with a lot of notes. People generally praise them. We’ve never used one personally though.

For us it’s always been finding out what would feel calming or soothing in the moment or the next day. Sometimes I even need an “upper,” like a mini session, to take the edge off. Usually this needs to happen 18-24 hours later for me. I ride the high for a while.

I’m sure for some, it’s helpful to have a list to pick from. Not for me, though.

[herproperplace]

Unfortunately 2 more days on antibiotics for the chest infection, so no cunt fucking for a few more days ☹️